


Carnage

by ParasiteMonarch



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh! - All Media Types, Yu-Gi-Oh! Duel Monsters (Anime & Manga)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-07
Updated: 2019-10-07
Packaged: 2020-11-27 01:13:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,571
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20939843
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ParasiteMonarch/pseuds/ParasiteMonarch
Summary: Morishipping. AU. Gore. Insinuated canon-character death.Bakura is a demon prince. Tristan is his knight. Bakura asks Tristan to fuck him hard on the obliterated remains of a certain enemy that he just finished torturing to death.





	Carnage

* * *

He knew Bakura had been livid all day. His irritation had been mounting for over a month now. Finally the boiling point was reached and the rage bubbling over would leave the earth scorched.

_“You really shouldn’t have tried to hide from me...”_

The knight stood unmoving and unfazed against the cold and musty stone wall of the dungeon. Though the words were not meant for him, he hung on each one the demon seethed.

_“You see, now I’ve been stewing for a while...”_

The dark and looming bolted door on the adjacent wall served as a reminder that he was just as entrapped in the warlord's walls of terror as their unfortunate prisoner.

_“And even though I tried to take my anger out on something else- well..."_

He watched the trickles of water run down the bricks on the wall and accumulate in the cracks. It was never pleasant when Bakura lashed out, he was just glad he wasn’t on the receiving end of that acid tongue today.

**_“IT JUST WASN'T-"_ **

Cracks of bones breaking.

**_"DOING IT-"_ **

The shrill of Bakura's voice piercing through his ear drums. He didn’t flinch.

**_"FOR ME!”_ **

Sickening crunches of body parts snapping in ways they never should, and screams of agony.

Afterwards, the room felt deathly silent despite Bakura's ragged breathing as he calmed.

Then it crept closer.

Huffing thoughtfully, the demon paced nonchalantly into his vision, not yet facing him. Instead he watched the door.

_“That was nice but... now I have all this excitement built up.”_ Hollow black eyes turned on Tristan. A monstrous horror hiding beneath the surface of a delicate porcelain face.

He smoothly glided forward, sharp canines bared in a ravenous sneer as he reached for the other man's trousers, slowly and fluidly undoing them.

_“How disappointing.”_ He commented when the flaccid length was revealed to him. _“No matter. I’m sure I can help you with that, hm?”_ He leaned up to kiss and nip at a strong jawline as he groped. He was almost a full head shorter, lean and compact in comparison to the knight's bulkier and muscular frame.

A meaningful look and a long draw of Bakura's razor tongue on his palm and Tristan's resolve broke. His knees bent sharply and he grabbed at the prince's backside, heaving him up. Letting wiry legs slither to cross around his lower back. Arms resting on his broad shoulders as harsh nails scratched at the back of his neck. Tongue in his ear before teeth scraped his cheek and found their familiar home gnawing at his lips.

He twisted around so he could grind Bakura into the stone walls. He could no longer live without this hellish darkness encircling him. The depraved corruption encompassing him.

_“Hhn- Wait.”_ His prince commanded in a breathy moan, _“I want you to fuck me- into his corpse.”_

Bakura truly was a vile, vulgar, insidious, abhorrent, irresistible creature.

He only hesitated a second before leaning Bakura's weight back onto himself and carrying him to the other side of the room. Once Bakura's mind had been made up there was no use in trying to unmake it.

Tristan tried not to think too hard about which pieces splattering the walls and floor used to be which part of the man, as he carefully lay Bakura atop the mess. Bakura cooed as he basked in the chunks of Blond hair and tanned skin as if it were fine satin.

With a warm and wet splat, Bakura's hand landed on his bicep. _“Use this wastrel’s blood and dregs to open me and bring me pleasure.”  
_

Tristan bit down on his lip. Hard.

It proved harder than he thought to locate a section of the puddling remnants that was more blood than... whatever else was oozed over the stone. He fingered the sludge experimentally, making sure to sufficiently coat his fingers so he didn’t have to go back for seconds.

Bakura palmed and pulled at the lumps of meat surrounding him. He purred as he sludged it onto the knight's hardness. He grasped the base and vigorously rubbed the wet slop over the length, as if trying to meld it into his foreskin.  


Tristan grimaced but willed himself not to think about it, lest he gag and ruin the demon's fun. He pushed two fingers roughly into Bakura's waiting and wanting flesh. Stretching and opening. Searching.

Such was customary. Bakura wanted it rough and hard and painful.

While Tristan did enjoy the quick and raw fucks they would sneak in between important planning and meetings, what he truly relished was when Bakura was relaxed enough to let him caress and savor every part of him. Gently work into the labyrinth that made up his lecherous soul and unravel him. To have the time to soak up Bakura's afterglow of satisfaction. Sink into Bakura and all his horrifying glory.

Carried with a sharp moan, Bakura's fingernails dug into his arms and the carnage that had caught underneath melted into the scratches they left as they marked their territory. Bakura writhed in the carcass of his fresh kill and in gratification of the crude treatment he was receiving.

_“Ahn- hurry up and shove it inside me- Mmhn- as deep as you can. Split me open!”_

He knew Bakura wasn’t quite stretched enough to take him yet. And that was exactly the way Bakura wanted it. Tristan thought briefly to consider himself lucky Bakura hadn’t found the slain man's dismembered penis and asked to be fucked with it too.

He wiped the remaining blood onto Bakura's pale spread thigh and the demon groaned low in anticipation. Tristan moved in closer, gently pulling the prince's blood soaked legs over his hips. Blood and gore smeared and stained his own skin as he shared in the disgusting debauchery. Nails crept up Tristan's arm, digging deep into his shoulder blades as if to never separate.

He gathered his breath and composure as he handled his gut-strewn member. He pushed and forced his way through Bakura's tightness. Bakura's legs braced, muscles contracting as the petite demon-lord tried to work himself further onto the considerable girth impaling him.

It was all at once worrying and extremely arousing how Bakura not only didn’t mind - but rather downright yearned - being torn apart from the inside as though he was a hollow void, unfillable and unquenchable.

He couldn’t hold himself back anymore. Bakura always brought out the animalistic urges deep within him. He grasped Bakura's bony hips and pulled the prince suddenly taught against himself, priding himself in Bakura's enraptured scream of pleasure at being stuffed full. His quivering insides stretched to their thinnest breaking point. He no longer held control of his hips or the harsh pace they set themselves in. Surrendering to the savagery. Hungrily taking all he could claim.

His blood pulsed loud in his skull. Skin ignited. Pleasure rising with each strained noise coming from the demon beneath him. Each desperate movement of their bodies to find their completion. Their mouths close enough to steal the other's breath. He could practically feel Bakura's deranged malfeasance become his own. They were becoming whole and no longer knew where one's existance began and the other ended.

Tristan gripped and stroked Bakura's soiled flesh. Milking the pent up anger out of every pore as the demon's claws ravaged his back.

Bakura's pure white hair stained red from his carnal rage. The wet warmth of the man's remains. Tristan shoved one arm under Bakura's hips, shoveling intestines as he did so. He pushed their bodies upwards and forward, just about bending Bakura in half as he leaned over him to smother himself in Bakura's long locks and moan insipid nothings into his ear. A vow, chanting his eternal devotion.

He didn’t care that Bakura's nails felt as though they were digging through the muscles in his back.

Or that Bakura tasted like stomach acid, among more unknown and unfortunate things.

This was euphoria.

His hips spasmed, continuing to move of their own volition even after his release. Bakura was a panting and twitching mess, swathed in every bodily fluid imaginable. And despite them both being left breathless, their lungs aching to be filled, he couldn’t stop himself from pressing kisses into Bakura's bruised lips as he clung to him, coming down from their shared high.

Tristan lent back, returning them to a more comfortable position, but remained inside Bakura, brushing the wet and bloody strands of hair from his beautifully flushed face.Bakura's arms went limp, beginning to descend but leaving one last row of marks down Tristan's shoulders. One pale hand landed with a splat among the heap of torn limbs and tissue. Tristan caught the other, holding it close and pressing a firm kiss to the knuckles.

_“Feel better?”_ He asked his prince.

Bakura nodded numbly with a soft moan.

_“Good."_ Tristan pulled back and let himself slip from Bakura. _"Let’s get you cleaned up and ready for bed. I’ll send someone to clean up this... mess.”_

Even if he waited for the exhaustion to wear off, he doubted Bakura would be able to walk without struggle, so he carefully scooped up the spent demon, trying his best not to take any unwanted farers along with them. Bakura sighed happily and took one last long whiff of the repugnant remnants of his enemy. Savoring it before the waste of human flesh was disposed of and forgotten.


End file.
